A Fearless Love
by Frogster
Summary: It's Valentine's Day, and Casey has been stiffed by Truman again. What happens when a certain obnoxious step-brother offers to take her out? They've got a Fearless love.....idea taken from Taylor Swift's "Fearless." Please read and review!


**It's not Valentine's Day without a little Dasey, so here's my next little one-shot. Even though it's a little late. (Hooray for plot bunnies!) Hope you enjoy! Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LWD or Taylor Swift's "Fearless."**

Casey McDonald lay on her bed, listening to rain pattering against her window. It was Valentine's Day, a day for soaring hearts, sweet kisses, tender looks, and the delicate yet powerful aroma of a rose. Yet Casey was dateless on this night of nights—that pretentious jerk Truman had stiffed her once again, calling to say that his grandma was sick in the hospital and he had to go visit her. But Emily had called thirty minutes earlier from the mall, having spotted Truman with none other than cousin Icky Vicki, no bed-ridden grandmother in sight. So finally Truman had used up his last chance. Casey was done with him—done with love, she resolved as she angrily forced her spoon into a halfway-frozen pint of Cookies and Cream ice cream.

In his bedroom next door, Derek Venturi had no desire to play Cupid or act the part of the gallant knight Ivanhoe—Ivanwho?—or Casey's favorite leading man, Mr. Darcy. He preferred to stay far away from Valentine's Day, since it only produced sobbing-from-happiness girls and a "good feeling" somewhere in his chest that was as alien to him as it was to the Grinch. But even he wouldn't be as apathetic as Truman—stiffing Casey, of all people. He'd heard Emily's loud voice over the phone, informing Casey of Truth-less Truman's umpteenth betrayal. Now, he wouldn't admit this to anyone, but he did feel a little sorry for Casey. He knew how much of a romantic she was, even though she tried to hide it behind a strongly feminist persona, and he couldn't help but think that Truman was definitely undeserving of Casey. Weirdly, he wanted to…_cheer Casey up_…maybe show her that all guys weren't horrible heartless idiots.

That was how he found himself standing outside Casey's door a minute later, without any idea why he was there or what he was going to do. But he knocked on the door.

"Come in," said an obviously tired Casey, obviously expecting someone other than Derek, because he never knocked.

"Hey," he said, standing in her doorway. Surprisingly, her eyes weren't red-rimmed or bloodshot, but seemed calm and resolved. Blue orbs sparkled with surprise under arched brows, and since nothing had been thrown at him yet, Derek carefully advanced. "I'm….sorryaboutTruman," he mumbled softly.

"What?" Casey asked.

"I'm sorry about Truman," he said, looking almost pained.

"Oh," she said, surprised.

"So…" he mumbled again, surprisingly shy, "You…wanna go get something to eat? You know, take your mind off of everything?"

Casey was obviously dumbstruck, but a blush slowly crept over her cheeks. "Really?" she said, ready to throw up defenses or retaliations if needed.

"Really," he answered before he could think straight.

She smiled—the first real smile she'd given him—and nodded.

Derek let go of a breath he didn't know he held, and said, "Get dressed—we'll go to Smelly Nellie's in a half-hour," not wanting her to think he was making such a big effort by naming his workplace—50% off discount—as their destination.

"An hour," she immediately countered.

"Forty-five minutes," he said firmly.

"Fine. Meet you downstairs," she said, and breezed by him to the bathroom.

Fifty minutes later, Derek was slumped in his chair, yelling at the TV. His dad and Nora had been a little taken aback when he said he'd be taking Casey out, but had nodded with relief. The two notorious squabblers had been on better terms recently, an almost-friendship springing up between them. Edwin and Lizzie had exchanged knowing looks from their vantage point on the stairs, and Marti had just smiled.

But Derek's patience was wearing thin, and he was about to yell up the stairs for Casey when she came down, looking gorgeous in a soft pink dress that brought out the faint blush in her cheeks, her lovely hair all elegant in gentle curls, and bright blue eyes glowing. Derek was struck by her beauty, and noticeably swallowed the lump in his throat. After a quick nod to George and Nora, he hurried off out the door, Casey trailing behind him, wondering what had gotten into him.

They drove down the street in the Prince, Casey marveling at the dancing pools of light reflected from the wet pavement. She was oddly happy, sitting there next to Derek. She silently laughed at how tightly his white knuckles were gripping the steering wheel, knowing the regular Derek would be speeding without a care in the world. He only lifted his hand from the steering wheel to absentmindedly run his hand through his hair, the way he did when he was uncontrollably nervous and scared, which Casey found oddly endearing. She didn't have any idea what he was scared of—honestly, she should be the one who was scared, what with Derek's erratic driving record and all. She wasn't, though, and they continued to ride in the car in silence, the only noise being the radio and Casey's faint humming along with it.

When they arrived in the Smelly Nellie's parking lot, Derek actually jumped out of the car before Casey had even unbuckled her seatbelt, and ran around to her side to open up her door. She was touched and gave him a faint smile.

Music drifted from inside Smelly Nellie's, and Casey had an odd urge to ask Derek to dance with her, right there in the parking lot. She blinked, not knowing where the thought had come from. It would be a crazy thought when concerning anyone else, but with Derek it felt almost normal.

_You take my hand and drag me headfirst_

_Fearless_

She reflected on how he roped her into the weirdest schemes, things that would normally have been too unconventional for her—like sabotaging their parents' wedding. He also brought out a daring side in her, encouraging her to do off-the-wall things such as sneak away to a party or dump milk and cereal in his always-perfect hair.

She remembered the time last summer when she'd tried for the twentieth time to jump off the diving board on Emily's pool. She never could do it, hating the springing feel of the board underneath her, her toes gripping for dear life, her mind racing with fear-induced adrenaline. Really, she was scared to death of jumping off that flimsy little board, afraid she'd land too hard in the water and hurt herself, or else sink to the bottom of the pool and not be able to reach the surface again. Every time before, she'd painstakingly retraced her steps backwards, never feeling totally safe until she'd felt her foot connect with hot concrete. But that time, amid all the quivering and her overly-obsessive mind screaming for safety, she'd seen Derek, all self-assured and smirking over in the deepest part of the pool. His very air of superiority rankled her, and so did the words that came out of his mouth: "Come on, Space Case, you're always jumping in those silly dance routines of yours, how is this any different? You're not going to get hurt—I don't want to have to deal with a twice-as-whiny Casey." That had done it—made her close her eyes tight, quickly scrambling for balance, and before she'd even known she'd done it, she'd leaped off of that board. Instinctively, she'd tucked her knees up to her chin; her eyes still screwed shut, and descended through the air, finally making contact with the choppy face of the water. She'd opened her eyes on the point of impact and stretched out her long dancer's legs until her feet had touched the bottom. She pushed herself off the pool bottom and flew through the water. She broke free, sunlight kissing her proud features, and opened her startled eyes to see Emily grinning and Derek nodding with approval. Nothing more was said of that, but she'd known without having been told that he was proud of her. Strangely, that made her happier than anything.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Derek was surprisingly acting the gentleman, Casey mused after coming out of her reverie. He'd actually held the door open for her—not such a big thing to some girls, but to Casey it was. It wasn't that long ago that, when going in a door, Derek would often let it swing shut after he'd safely entered, the door more often than not conking Casey on the head. No, wait, that _was_ just last week….

Derek's behavior didn't change as they sat down at the table shown them by their waitress. After a quick preliminary glance at their waitress, Derek paid her no more than the necessary attention. Really, it was as if their waitress was _Edwin_—only wanted when Derek needed something to drink, and dismissively waved away when he didn't.

Casey was very surprised and flattered. This was such a change from Derek's normal behavior towards her—but she did remember all of his former girlfriends saying at the time that he was very sweet and attentive, so he was probably only a jerk to her. Figures. She only ever attracted the jerky guys—except for Noel. But he didn't really count, because she didn't reciprocate his feelings. Right?

Derek didn't even laugh at Casey's health-conscious meal choice: half of a chicken Alfredo dish with whole-wheat noodles and a side salad with light dressing. He just continued to shovel in his high-fat, high mess…whatever it was.

They actually chatted easily. Sure, Derek had to poke fun at some things she discussed, like her over-zealousness to get an English project done, but Casey noticed that his jabs weren't mean-spirited, just playful. It crossed her mind that he might even be cracking jokes to get her mind off Truman, wanting to cheer her up; either that or he was covering up some feeling of insecurity. Why she would make him insecure, she had no idea. She dismissed the thought when he blew his straw wrapper in her face.

"Der-ek!"

It had started raining again while they were inside Smelly Nellie's. Even so, Casey, for once, wasn't worried about her hair. Sure, she was worried that she'd slip and fall in her high heels—women sure did a lot of silly things for beauty—but that was no different than any other day. Casey was actually more interested in what Derek had to say.

He wanted to major in filmmaking, he said—videoing her birthday party that time she was in the hospital with appendicitis had kindled his interest. He loved different angles and perceptions of things—no surprise there—and besides, if he were successful, he'd be making lots of money….

Derek suddenly stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Casey raised her eyebrows.

"Look. Right there. That's beautiful," he said, making his fingers into a little view-box.

"What?" Casey asked, oblivious.

"There," Derek answered, putting his fingers at the small of Casey's back and turning her around. Casey's breath hitched at the sudden touch and her skin burned.

When Derek's fingertips left her, she felt lighter, like something was missing; like his fingertips should always rest at that spot. She didn't stop to wonder about that, though. She was much too interested in what Derek was pointing at.

The rain was streaming down in sheets, reflecting the glow of the streetlights and making little iridescent pools on the pavement. The moon softly glowed overhead, casting shadows on the ground, creating soft silhouettes of the trees and the cars in the parking lot.

Casey smiled. Derek did have a good eye for things, she decided. She looked at him, and gasped.

The rain had plastered his always-messy hair to his forehead and his brown eyes were squinting in a director's squint. The corners of his mouth, usually turned up in that incessant but endearing smirk, were frozen in concentration. The rain traveled in little rivulets across his well-known, even well-loved face.

If a picture says a thousand words—Casey's face could write a novel. Her eyes were opened. She saw the kind of guy that Derek was—the real Derek, not the schmoozing, womanizing slug that everyone else saw, but the kind, funny, sweet guy that he tried so hard to hide.

That thought—and the creeping thought that suggested she liked him, no loved him—was why she did what she did next.

"Want to dance?" she softly asked, afraid of being rejected again.

"What?" he asked, still in filmmaker mode.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked again.

"Here? In the parking lot? That's not a very safe, Casey-ish thing to do," he answered.

She didn't care that he'd made yet another crack about her rigid personality. She was just glad he hadn't said no.

"I know," she answered, not really knowing. "But it was an impulse—something you're no stranger to—and I thought….well, it doesn't really matter."

"Impulse, huh?" he scoffed. "So you really don't want to dance with me? Just thought it'd be something interesting, something different?"

"No, no," she countered softly. "You're the only one that I'd ever dare ask."

"Well then," he said, putting his fingers lightly on the small of her back and taking her soft hand in his bigger one. "I'm always up for a challenge."

She grinned without a bit of malice, and then suddenly felt shy. Derek's fingers were lighting a fire within her, making little butterflies dance in her chest. They began to sway to some invisible music, gently, tentatively, afraid of what might happen, but they both knew they'd never felt so alive, so full of laughter and love.

Then the rain started pouring down on them, making Casey scream and stagger backwards, slipping on the wet pavement. Derek snaked a confident arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She was flush against his chest, her palms lightly resting above his quickly beating heart. She only hoped he couldn't hear the oppressing thump, thump of her own.

His right hand, the one not possessing her waist, gently reached up and cupped her face, softer than the brush of a rose petal against the back of her hand. His thumb traced small circles on her cheek, making her gasp for what seemed the hundredth time. His brown eyes were intense as they looked into hers, and Casey saw all the fiery passion, deep affection, and yes, heart-stopping love that he had for her.

Suddenly, he bent his head to hers, and before she even had the time to think, _Wait, this is Derek,_ his lips had crashed onto hers.

Her hands immediately went to the back of his neck and her fingers entangled in his messy, sopping wet hair. He kissed her so gently but with everything he had, his mouth insisting, demanding, pleading, and she reciprocated, the butterflies in her stomach exploding into bright bursts of color.

When they finally broke apart, she whispered, "See what you've done to me? You've got me dancing in my best dress in the pouring rain, kissing you senseless, without a care in the world.

"You've made me fearless."

He grinned, immensely proud of himself and burning to his core with admiration and love, and kissed her again.

**Woot! I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing this. Hopefully this story makes up for the fact that it's four days late. Hope it wasn't too sappy or cheesy at the end. Please review—I so want to know what you all thought about it. Have a great Dasey-filled day!**

**Froggie**


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